Somewhat draggled with the wet grass, and muddied with the slippery
hedge-bank, I at last returned to the lane where I had left Fanny.
However, there was no one but George to notice my appearance, and he was
too much taken up with the basket of fine roots which he had procured
(be sure always to take a trowel and basket with you on such
expeditions), to care how I looked; and, besides, as 'no man is a hero
to his valet,' so no lady is a fine lady to her donkey-boy; and
homewards we turned, threading our way between the overarching trees,
not as yet shewing sign of leaf; but their richly-tinted bark, varied by
mosses and lichens of different hues, and partly mantled with ivy, now
in full berry, looked almost as beautiful, as the sunbeams fell on them,
and the blue sky shone between, as they do in their summer verdure.

On we jogged, Fanny well pleased to be on her homeward course; until at
last, coming to a cross-way which would have either led us straight home
or taken us thither by a little circuit, I, lured by the desire of
seeing whether the daffodils began to shew blossom, resolved on the
latter road, not duly considering that perhaps _she_ had decided on the
former. But so it was; and, notwithstanding sundry stripes, her will
remained unsubdued, as she presently evinced. After we had gone a little
way up a lovely sunny lane--slowly indeed, for she was evidently as
perverse as she could be, yet with much enjoyment on my part--I was
gazing upwards at some delicate white clouds, which a light breeze
wafted across the face of the sky, or watching some bird in its flight,
when suddenly I felt the jogging onwards cease, a slight undulating
motion, and found that my feet were on the ground. Fanny had lain down
in the dust, and I had but to rise as I would from a low chair to be
standing quietly by her side. George dared to grin, and there were two
or three country-people who happened to be passing at the time, who were